Dwindled Dawn
by SilverCyanide
Summary: They weren't two halves, perfectly melded, or two sides of the same coin. They were Yukimura and Sanada, with their own bumps and bruises and scars and facets and facades, and they coalesced regardless. //YukiSana. For fujikawaii10346's birthday.//


**Disclaimer: **Konomi-sensei owns the characters.

**Warnings:** shounen-ai (YukiSana; implied YagyNiou), kissing.

**A/N:** Because it's still the ninth where you live. Sorry this didn't totally go according to what you wanted, but I hope you like it anyway...

**Dedicated to fujikawaii10346! Happy birthday!

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_"Morning without you is a dwindled dawn."_

_~Emily Dickinson_

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It was an absolutely gorgeous day at the end of April, or at least the end of one as the sun had sunk behind the horizon hours ago and the only bits of light visible were the stars. They peaked through the thin fabric of the curtains, barely visible in the clear night sky.

Like any normal teenage boys, they had spent as much time as possible outside that day. It was the beginning of a new school year, after all, and a Friday at that, with no cram school yet to attend the next day. The sun had gone down long ago, though, and so with sunburned necks and clothes that reeked of lacking deodorant they trudged back to a favorite hangout of all: the Yukimura residence.

The tradition had started the previous year, right after the summer season when the old captain retired. He'd appointed Yukimura—whom he affectionately referred to as 'the most terrifying freshman player I've ever had the pleasure to compete against'—captain right away, much to the dismay and disappointment of the current second years vying for the position. (Despite this, none of them challenged the decision: they had all seen Yukimura in action, and knew full well that they wouldn't last two seconds against him.)

Using his new captain powers, Yukimura began formulating team bonding activities; while many of these (such as trips to the zoo or attempting to go ice skating) didn't go over well, sleepover-slash-movie-nights had always been a big hit. Therefore, it made perfect sense to start the year with one.

Which was why, at far too late an hour, seven teenage boys were settled in front of the television watching horror movies. Very few people in the group, even Niou, actually _enjoyed_ horror movies, but, being typical teenage guys, no one would admit to _not_ liking them either, because that would inevitably bring up the question of whether or not one was scared, and it was better to sit through the films—even if you _were_ scared—than to come out and admit the fact.

This plan, however, was not working out too well for Sanada. He was strong physically, all right, and was positive he could easily injure any member of the team if he so chose to: but the fact of the matter was that he abhorred horror movies, with their stupid, immature, terrifying plots. It didn't matter how many times he told himself that he could overcome his _own_ demons, and that the subjects of these movies were purely fictional: he ended up paralyzed mid-movie, often until the first light of dawn broke through the familiar curtains.

Even worse was the fact that Yukimura had noticed. Sanada was positive the younger teen had picked up on his fears the first time around, and the more of these events they had, the more opportunities Yukimura had to out him. Sanada met Yukimura at the age of four: he was well aware just how cunning the other youth could be, and knew better than anyone that the charming façade Yukimura put up was only in place to sooth his prey until he could poison and eat it.

Sanada wasn't sure when he was going to end up as prey, but he got the feeling his time was drawing dangerously short.

"Genichirou?"

Yukimura's voice snapped him out of his reverie, and he managed to quell the stiffening fear produced by the fictional universe blaring from a screen in front of them long enough to turn his head and acknowledge his friend with a nod. Yukimura gave a smile, lips upturned just a tad at the corners in a kind of amused observation: Sanada felt like he was being studied.

"Are you all right?" The voice was honey-sweet, and with the same goopy consistency as well. Sanada gave another small, firm nod. Yukimura raised an eyebrow, less out of surprise than amusement at the all-too-blatant lie.

"Really now?" Yukimura had lowered his voice, now, neck reaching over another inch so as to keep their conversation private from the others in the room—Marui, with his hands over his eyes; Jackal, looking all together unperturbed; Yanagi, who was probably asleep, though one couldn't be entirely sure because his eyes were usually just as closed as they were now; Yagyuu-and-Niou, who had taken to spending a ridiculous (in Sanada's opinion, at any case) amount of time together and now appeared to be attempting to break the laws of physic and occupy the same space at the same time. The movement of Yukimura closer, the brush of silky hair against his own skin, sent a shiver up Sanada's spine that was hard to suppress. He did, though, as best as possible.

"Because you don't look… _fine_." The inflection could be taken a million and two different ways, but Sanada got the point: Yukimura was taking matters into his own hands, now, especially if Sanada did not cooperate. Inhaling as deep a breath as possible, and making a mental note of the escape routes in the Yukimura residence, Sanada replied.

"Is that so?" The tremble in his voice would have been inaudible to anyone else, but as it was not anyone else Yukimura picked up on it right away; a lascivious grin began to seep across his face, spreading like tea in boiling water.

"Quite so," Yukimura confirmed, and Sanada now noticed the hand on his bicep, felt the curl of the fingers around it, understood its implications. "Perhaps it would be best if we dealt with your dilemmas in private?"

Sanada's eyes narrowed half an inch internally, though he kept his emotions guarded and his expression stoic regardless: two could play at this game, after all. With care, Sanada straightened with purpose, the movie-watching slouch he had fallen into lifting.

In front of him was a guarded, angelic demon. But in front of that angelic demon was himself, someone who had just proved he could pluck up energy from his last reserves in order to put up a façade as thick as the tension that filled the air the day a freshman had been appointed captain for the following year.

"But of course." Sanada's voice was rich and flowing when he said it, but there was a guarded challenge underneath that he knew Yukimura would discern—it was the same guarded challenge that all of Rikkai projected, no matter where they went, a kind of "catch me if you can" followed by a "but if you somehow manage, I'll keep stepping it up until you're left in the dust" that was not all together unique or original, yet seemed to be.

With the fluidity of an entity not entirely human, Yukimura rose and made his way the few short steps from the living room to the kitchen; Sanada followed, hot on his trail. He was the prey, of course, but sometimes even the prey could play offensive, and Sanada wasn't letting the chance slip away from him.

By the time the swinging door had shut the two were entangled, an arm on someone's leg and a leg on someone's back and the rushed frenzy of two pairs of lips groping for everything and nothing all at the same time. Someone's fingers twined around another's bicep, and a shirt tangled between the mess of heads and the mops of hair that were already full off too many snaggles from the sun and sweat and lack of brushing it earlier that day. Neither had done this before—with each other, or ever, really—so it was sloppy and rushed and a mixture of things neither understood yet, about themselves and between themselves and within themselves; gaps that were created externally, the space between bodies in embrace, and gaps created emotionally, where passion and instinct took over in place of logical thought processes.

When they broke, bodies dampened with sweat, they made no eye contact. There was a brief, linger moment in which their embrace, if it could be called that, remained. Then the moment broke, the extra crystal that supersaturated the solution and caused everything else to come rushing out, and both Yukimura and Sanada straightened themselves up and steadied themselves on their own two feet.

Despite this, though, despite it all, Yukimura looked: he shot a glance, making eye contact and holding it. The look read one thing:

_We are not finished. _

A smile, almost mischievous, followed it, before Yukimura turned heel and did little less than flee back to the sanctuary of the group.

Sanada remained, engulfed in the comforting, familiar solitude that was his own presence. His mind could not comprehend what had just happened—not because he was slow, but because it had yet to recover from such unexpected over stimulation—and so he stood in the kitchen, empty mind and bursting heart.

When he finally made his way back in, no questions were asked. Much of the group had nodded off, Yukimura included; and as the first light of dawn broke through the familiar curtains, and Sanada knew everything would resolve in the end.

**Owari**

**Ending A/N: Drop a review on your way out, please. Especially if you normally follow me, because you _know_ I don't do YukiSana (or SanaYuki, or any combination thereof) so I'd like critique/feedback! Thanks!  
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